


Same Streets

by sleepinnude



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Incest, Light D/s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepinnude/pseuds/sleepinnude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Lip meaning what they say</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Streets

Ian was shaking beneath the hands of his big brother. He knew those hands so well. They had rolled his first joined, carded through his hair, wiped away tears and in a rushed bout of adolescent curiosity, given Ian his first hand-job. And now they were coasting down the planes of his chest, his stomach, catching to play over the peaks of his hipbones. Without meaning to, Ian let out a whimper, eyes fluttering closed and bottom lip blossoming white under his teeth.

Lip swung his head in close, warm breath skittering across a fading bruise against Ian’s cheekbones. “Shh. D’you want Fi or someone to hear ya?”

Ian, of course, only whined more at that and titled his head further back, denting deep into the pillow. Lip was straddling him, unfairly fully clothed while Ian was utterly bare before him. And as much as he wanted to even the sides, as much as he wanted to be able to dig his fingers into his brother’s marred skin, Ian also loved this. He loved the power hanging over him with Lip merely undoing Ian and taking him for his own. He loved the way Lip’s eyes would skim and scour over Ian’s every line of muscle, every dent and bruise, every pore. Like he still had things to learn about Ian.

His thumb curled in from where it had been resting against Ian’s cheek, stroking over his fleshy bottom lip. “It’s fucking gross, you know?” Lip mutters with a grin he rarely wore anymore these days. “You’re so goddamn stunning. I swear. Art history students should study your ass and shit.”

Ian couldn’t help but laugh at that, couldn’t help but work a hand against the mattress and prop himself up to reach Lip’s mouth. He bit down on his namesake, tasting blood and relishing in the copper sting. Lip swore softly, pulling away and eying Ian with newfound lust. “Fucking hell,” he said with a hint of laughter. Swinging his hips forward, he laid himself completely over Ian, pressing the breath from his lungs. “Cocky,” he accused, eyelashes mingling with Ian’s.

Ian smirked up at him but that only lasted a split second before Lip was biting the smirk off of him, leaning back to pull at the skin before letting it go into Ian’s moan. “There’s a good boy,” Lip praised huskily. He tucked his face into Ian’s neck, sucking noisily as Ian squirmed beneath him. The movement only brought Ian’s cock against the hot, hard clothed line of Lip. Bringing a hand down, Lip rolled his palm against Ian and pressed his tongue against the shell of Ian’s ear. Ian shuddered in anticipation.

“I’ll bet that’s why you love that JROTC bullshit, huh?” Lip demanded, voice scorching and breathless. “You couldn’t give a shit about fighting for the country. You’re just dying for someone to tell you that you’ve done good. I’ll bet you go fucking hard every time a commander complimented you, huh?”

Ian whined high and Lip laughed without air. His hips were fighting higher and higher, one hand biting into Lip’s shoulder to hold him there, close, against him. The burn of his brother’s jeans against his dick was something welcome and Ian’s ability to see straight had gone long ago. He was panting against Lip’s cheek, just nodding and gasping out half-words.

“C’mon, Ian,” Lip said, a hint of something bitter tucked inside his cheek. “C’mon, pretend I’m one of those commanding officers. Pretend I’m that fucking convict asshole you think is your boyfriend. Pretend I’m the only thing that matters, making me happy. C’mon.”

Ian choked on his breath and something went too tight inside his chest. “Fuck,” he swore raggedly, back arching up off the bed as he strained for more. “Fuck, Lip, fuck. No, no. Just you. Not pretending. Just you, only you,” he babbled, eyes and fists clenched.

A soft touch stroked through Ian’s hair and he whimpered, mouth open practically drooling for it. “You’re such a good boy,” Lip murmured into his hair and that was it, that was enough. Ian saw white and came harder than with anyone else, just as hard as always when with Lip. He laid shaking and shivering, not quite one with his body as Lip pet through his hair and drew soft spirals over his collarbone.

Silence settled over them with only the air conditioning whirring to provide a counter-beat their breathing. When Ian opened his eyes, he was staring at the ceiling. Lip was across the room, rummaging through the dresser. The pants he had been wearing, no doubt stained over with Ian’s come, were balled up against the bottom of the bunk-beds. Ian sat up, muscles still resonating. He watched Lip move, a cigarette already pinched between his lips. He watched and waited, watched as his older brother balanced precariously and pulled on his fresh pair of shorts. And then, finally, turn around and match Ian with that grin. That grin that Ian had been following, into hell and back out, for as long as he could remember.

“I mean it,” Ian said, words strangled a little.

Lip laughed to himself, taking the cigarette from his mouth and looking own at his feet. “Sure you do,” he mumbled. Crossing back to the bed, he leaned over Ian and crowded in around him. They matched eyes a moment and Ian held his breath as Lip spread his fingers through Ian’s hair. A searing kiss tethered them and they fed and pulled from it.

And the next second Lip was at the door and Ian was sighing heavily, falling back against the pillow. “Take a shower or something,” Lip directed from around his cigarette. “Carl’ll be back up soon, no doubt.”

Ian listened as those stupid fucking boots clunked down the stairs and then the muffled sounds of Lip talking to Fiona started up from the kitchen. He sat up as Fiona laughed downstairs and lit a cigarette of his own, taking long, deep hits as he wrapped a towel around his wait and slipped into the bathroom.


End file.
